


Dress the Part

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: Clothing Kink, M/M, Romance, Undercover As Prostitute, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3577461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt at comment-fic on livejournal:<i></i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Milt/Russ, Milt likes Russ undercover as a rent boy far more than he should</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress the Part

Russ looked in the mirror. “I’m going to shoot someone.”

“No, man, you look good,” Milt said, doing his best not to tilt his head for a better look. 

“These jean shorts don’t even cover….” Russ trailed off to pull down on the short shorts. “And who the hell wears mesh shirts? What is this, 1983?”

“It works for you,” Milt said, smiling but not too much.

“Forget it,” Russ grumbled, pulling off the mesh shirt and looking around the store for more clothes wearing nothing but jean shorts cut three inches above where his ass met his thighs.

“Sorry about this,” Milt said awkwardly to the man who worked at the store, but he just shrugged and said, “Business is slow anyway,” finished arranging the polo shirts, then returned to the cashier.

“I still don’t see why you can’t do this,” Russ grumbled as he rifled through a row of shirts.

“You’re his type,” Milt says, “All his exes look like you.”

“Well, just on principle, if anyone should go undercover a rent boy, it’s you. You look like a pinup boy for some incredibly cheesy teenybopper magazine.”

“Thank you,” Milt said politely, making Russ scowl. 

Russ grabbed a few more clothes from the sales rack and said, “Okay, we’re going a different direction.” He went into a changing room and came out a minute later.

“What about this? Subtle, but not too subtle, right?” Russ said, looking in the mirror again, trying to gauge his own outfit with a critical eye. He was wearing black jeans, painted-on tight, and a just-as-tight black v-neck T-shirt, cloth clinging to every curve of muscle on Russ’ body. 

Russ grimaced at his reflection, still unsure, then asked, jokingly, “Well, would _you_ pay 500 bucks to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Milt said immediately.

Russ turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“If I were the target,” Milt added quickly. “If I were him. Then sure. Because you’re his type.”

Russ smirked a little. “I guess everyone has a type, huh, Milt?” 

Milt swallowed. “Sure, I guess. So… let’s pay for the clothes and get to the target’s mansion.”

Russ smiled. “Sure. But these jeans are so tight, I might need you to help me take them off.”

Russ observed Milt’s reaction — a fraction of a second of panic, then a fraction of a second of desire, then back to his standard nonchalant smile. “Sure,” Milt said, shrugging.

“Just messing with you, dude,” Russ said with a grin, then went in the changing room to put on his own clothes. 

After they bought the clothes, they headed to the car. As soon as they were inside, Russ smirked again and said, “So.” 

“What?” Milt said, all false innocence.

“It turns out you’re not perfect after all.”

“I never said I was perfect.”

  “Of course you did. Every fucking thing you do is like a giant ‘Look at me, I’m fucking perfect’ fireworks display.”

“I don’t know why you would say that,” Milt said.

“But nobody’s perfect,” Russ said. “Take me, for instance. I think I’m a pretty damn good detective. But I’m also angry, uncommunicative, and just generally fucked up in the head.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“And you. You act like you’re so perfect. But I think you’re not.”  

“Okay. Fine.”

“I think you’re into guys who are angry, uncommunicative, and fucked up in the head. A perfect guy wouldn’t be into that.”

Milt just stared at him for a second. For once, Milt actually looked nervous as hell.

Russ really wanted to just savor the moment. To just enjoy watching Milt fall apart a little. But for some reason, he smiled at Milt and said, “Lucky for you, I think I might be into douchebags who go around acting perfect all the time.”

Milt looked confused, but his shoulders eased just slightly. “Really?”

Russ shrugged. “You’re growing on me.”

Milt smiled, small and genuine, nothing like the toothy grins he gave the rest of the world. “Okay,” he said, nodding.

“Okay, then.”

“But Russ?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re keeping the outfit, right?”


End file.
